


make a fool of death

by asexuelf



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Butch Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Butch Character, Domestic, F/M, Hunt Avatar Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner Are Best Friends, Mentions of Butch Georgie Barker, Monster/Monster Romance, Starvation (The Magnus Archives), Title from a Florence + the Machine Song, he's correct, jon likes them butch and what can i say?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: It's never wise to avoid one's true nature, but no one ever said they were wise. Or: Jon and Daisy's fight against Hunger.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	make a fool of death

**Author's Note:**

> hello fellow jondaisies u_u have a Treat
> 
> is this fix-it fic? takes place after the buried debacle (so season 4), but jon and daisy live together? i guess?
> 
> anyways asdfghjk i hope you enjoy

The bitter-sour stench of sweat greets him first. It wrinkles his nose, but not enough that he looks up from the paper-back thriller in his hands. It's folded in half and it has been for quite some time, his eyes stuck unseeing (unSeeing) halfway down the yellowed page.

What a foolish idea it was to tame the Hunger with fiction, with red-paint carnage and flitting fantasy… Still, there are pieces of the author's pain here, like salt sticking to a crisp packet, and Jon licks at it hungrily. Starvingly. Maybe he ought to pick up a memoir or something. Anything.

Running sneakers against hardwood, and then Daisy is falling bonelessly into the chair beside him. "Love," she greets him, second in line. The sweat stench is much worse this close.

"The fabric will catch smell," he reminds her absently.

He almost doesn't hear her amused huff; he's so focused on pulling Truth from Fiction like lashes from an eyelid, it's hard to focus on anything else. Then he hears her shoes hitting the floor, pulled off with a groan each, and huffs himself, book forgotten.

"Wearing shoes inside is _disgusting._ "

She smirks at him, handsome in her T-shirt and running shorts and cropped new haircut. "Is it now?" It makes him swallow oddly, face warm. "Are you going to do something about it?"

Everything about her is as new as it is familiar; memories of buzzing Georgie's hair, buying Georgie men's trousers, cupping her sweet, soft face and letting her kiss him with as much force as she wanted - all of it echoes now through Daisy. She runs away from the Hunt, from her Hunger, and towards things she could never be before. Sharp edges, feminine. Stark lines, a girl.

He wonders what it means that the girls he falls for are always butch. He Knows it doesn't mean anything, but wondering is a fun pass-time.

And then Daisy's laughing, hanging her head. She looks tired and hungry and _happy_. "Sorry. Did I break you, flirting like that?"

He scoffs, but it's more bruise than ego. "No. Maybe. You look- good." Red-faced and wild-haired, sweat dried and sticky on her face but leaving dark stains on her grey clothes. "Very good."

"Thank you." And she means it. "You look good too. Warm."

"I'm- it's just your old jumper-"

"Yeah. It is." She stares at him, her eyes hard and searching. "Anyways. I was out looking for- well. Food." They keep eye-contact, awkward and knowing (Knowing). "There's- slam poetry. Might help you."

Jon laughs humorlessly. _Slam poetry._ "Delicious," but it comes out a sad sigh. "And you? Aren't you…?"

"Yeah." She swallows. Gaunt. Afraid. Known. All her stories are Jon's now, but he can give her little in return. "Might get a job as a butcher or something. Whatever works."

"Whatever works."

He doesn't tell her to get off the upholstery. He holds her hand, book sliding from his lap to the floor meaninglessly, weightlessly, and lets her soak it through.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading 💖


End file.
